Residual Thoughts
by Xonze
Summary: Castle seems distant and Beckett doesn't know why until she goes home and thinks about all that happened.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, last night's episode was pretty intense, wasn't it (4x19)? I know a few people aren't happy with Castle's reaction, but I understand why he did what he did and think it plays out realistically. Anyway, after last night I decided I wanted to write a story of how I wish things would go. Now, you know me, it won't be all happy and fluffy, but I'll bring it to a quicker conclusion. Consider this my episode 20 and on. The plan is to make this story short and sweet, to be finished by Monday. That being said, I won't be posting a chapter every day like with my other stories.

So, Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Chapter 1<p>

She felt like she'd been ditched. Ryan and Esposito were out within seconds, which honestly she couldn't blame them for. They'd both put everything out there the past couple of days, but she didn't think Castle would leave her too.

She adjusted her jacket and bent to pick up her bag. When she stood her eyes instantly locked on the elevator doors as they opened. For a moment she thought he was coming back, that he'd changed his mind. No such luck, a uniform got off and headed for the break room with the single-mindedness that only the need of caffeine could bring. She watched him go, shifted the bag to her other hand and bit her tongue.

What was Castle's deal? Ever since the morning he'd been acting strange. Well, stranger than normal. His entire demeanor had changed like someone had flipped a switch. Maybe something happened at home?

She made her way toward the elevator and hit the button, waited a moment and then got in. She rode it down to the lobby, worry beginning to bubble up inside. He did go somewhere today and when he came back he seemed to change. She hoped it wasn't anything bad, maybe she should call him and talk to him over the phone? She rolled her eyes as she headed out into a chilled spring night. Interrogating him would go over wonderfully if he was in a bad mood.

She wasn't sure she wanted to deal with Bad-Mood Castle. At least not tonight. While she had been wired, being ditched short-circuited any energy that had once buzzed. She couldn't keep her thoughts from trailing back over the past few days. She'd seen death for years, but the bodies she saw on this case were going to haunt her nightmares. She could already feel her mind feeding them to her subconscious. She couldn't think of a time that someone dead didn't show up in her dreams, but theses would be bad.

The remote for her car had decided to stop working she found as she pulled on the door handle. She gave a grumbled curse and unlocked the door as an image from the night before strolled to the forefront of her brain: the image of Castle in amongst the dead from the bomb. She forced her eyes closed as she got in, willed it away because it was the one thing she didn't want to think about right now. Castle was fine.

He was home.

Safe.

Pissed.

She canted her head enough that she found herself staring back in the rearview mirror. Behind her the lights of New York danced in gold and blue and white; a tapestry of living. She could almost imagine the people behind the glass living their lives: joking, crying, and sleeping. They'd wake up tomorrow and think nothing of it. They'd put off until tomorrow what they could do today.

Wasn't that what she was doing? She shook her head as she made her way into traffic and pointed towards home and wine. Some things needed to be put off, some things couldn't be done, or faced, until you were ready.

She wasn't ready. Well, at least not ready to be the initiator. Something like that seemed so far beyond her capabilities that she didn't even like to think about it. She knew the face of her fear in regard to Castle.

That he didn't love her anymore. That what he said was in the heat of the moment, that when looked at in the light of day was nothing more than a plea not to lose her. Or, that his love would be fleeting, that they'd fizzle out in a month or two and lose everything they had now.

Why was he being so goddam cold?

She slammed her hands on the steering wheel, honked at a cab that started to get frisky with her Crown Vic and made a hard right turn on a yellow light. She just wanted to go home and cloud her worries with a drink. Something maybe stronger than wine now that she thought about it.

She felt foolish. Yesterday, with the memories of the bomb strong and savage, she wanted to say something more to him. But, as if some god thought it too soon, she was saved by Esposito's interruption.

Why did she think she was saved?

She gnawed on her bottom lip as she parked her car and got out. She paused under a cloudless night and stared up at the eternal twilight sky that was devoid of stars. A Spring wind kissed at her cheeks, sent a chill down her spine that made her shiver. She still breathed, could still feel the soft, rhythmic thump of her heart under her breast. She still moved and thought, and my, wasn't that miracle? By all rights she should have died a year ago.

Yet that didn't push her. Her own mortality did the exact opposite of what this week's events lit inside her. Her time in the dark made her draw away from all that she held dear and loved. It was the wrong reaction, she could see that now, but it was the one she absolutely needed, time to collect herself. Time: an intangible thing that she had already squandered. Another year, more brushes with death and yet she couldn't tell some guy how she felt, how he made her feel alive and real.

He brought out her heart like no one else could, and that scared the living hell out of her. Her heart still lay broken inside her chest, though the doctors did what they could, they couldn't fix the cracks and dents.

She wouldn't want them too. They were apart of her, that part that gave her strength and gave her the walls to keep from being ripped apart in her turbulent life. But Castle had begun to take the place of those painful memories. He'd become a support, not of the walls or the worry, but of her. Was she willing to risk that?

The apartment stood as a testament of darkness when she walked in and she sighed. For some reason she found the darkness a comfort, a safety blanket that hid the terrors and worries. But them being hidden didn't remove them. They always came back, just lingering outside of her perception and ready to jump up and bite her in the ass.

Her keys landed in a small bowl on a table. Her jacket found its way onto a hook in the closet and her fingers found the light switch, which she flicked on.

First order of business was alcohol.

She headed into the kitchen, squatted down and began to turn though the lazy-susan in her cabinet. She wasn't a drinker; she knew better than most the dangers that lurked in the depths of alcohol. She'd seen it first hand, but tonight it could dim her mind enough to let her relax. Two drinks, that was the cut off point she decided and choose a bottle of gin and placed it on the counter before getting the tonic water and a slightly off lime from her fridge.

With the drink made she went into the living room and sat on the couch, her socked feet up on the coffee table and she picked up the remote from cushion beside her. The TV held little else but color and explosions, and she steered clear of the news channels, she knew all the details of the violent word that she needed to know. Not even M.A.S.H could entertain her attention for very long though and as she sipped her drink her mind began to wander in a large circle of thoughts.

He seemed so angry, and not just angry with everything... It was anger with a purpose. What ever had set him off was laser focused. Why didn't he tell her about it? He usually asked for her advice, sometimes she didn't have an answer, but when he was bothered about something he would ask what she thought. So why didn't he now?

She absently rubbed at the scar on her chest and frowned at the strange reflections of her mostly empty glass. It felt like the answer stood in front of her, only hidden in a fog of some sort.

"He's a mystery and you love mysteries," she said to herself, her speech slightly slurred from being tired. She downed the rest of the drink and allowed her brain to traipse around with Castle while she got up to refill her glass.

He showed up while she was in the box with the pickpocket, she tried to think of the kid's name, but that too lingered just out of reach. It didn't matter in the slightest, though. That had been tough, keeping her anger in check while he spouted off about trauma and amnesia.

She chuckled into her glass as she made her way back to the TV and settled back into the worn cushions that enveloped her. She just about broke him in half. He had no idea what trauma was. She did, because trauma was being shot. Trauma was remembering the bullet entering your chest and making adjustments to your insides and feeling each one. Trauma was feeling like someone had stuffed a mixer up under your rib cage and turned it on high.

Trauma was remembering it all like it was yesterday. Every second of it.

Her eyes shot opened, the cloud of alcohol that she'd been building up burned away like early morning fog. He couldn't have been there. He couldn't have heard her. Could he?

She swallowed hard as her throat and mouth dried so that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She felt feverish and sat the glass down on the coffee table before she dropped it.

Oh, Christ. Oh, Jesus Christ.

She closed her eyes, placed her fingers to her forehead with a groan, and tried to will away the headache that began to play between her ears. This was not happening. She didn't say that. If she did, then he couldn't have heard it.

What the hell was he doing behind the glass? Was he behind the glass?

He left. He didn't wait for her to get out, but the coffee sat on her desk like a memento of his being there. He left for hours and then came back.

Angry. Annoyed.

Oh, God. He did hear it. She let a shuddering breath hiss through her teeth as her jaw tighten. "I'm such an idiot."

Her eyes watered, not in sadness but in frustration. Why did she wait? Why did she lie to him? Yes, she wasn't ready, but this was not how she wanted it to come out. The pain she'd seen in him, the passive aggressive jabs at her... it all made sense.

She picked up her glass and finished it and got up for a third.

Why did she always ruin things? Anything good she had to break because she couldn't come to terms with it. She couldn't have returned his love before. How could she show her love for him when she couldn't get her mind around her own wall? She did love him though, she knew that now-knew it for years, but she just wasn't ready.

And if he was ready, why the hell didn't he tell her again? What the hell was he thinking dropping a bomb like that on her and then just letting it linger? If he loved her why did he keep it to himself?

Another shuddering breath escaped her, this one leaving her whole body shaking and her stomach quivering. She screwed up this time. Whether or not he should have told her again, she hurt him. The last thing she wanted to do, and she did it.

She looked up at her apartment, at the splash of color on the wall from the TV, and a terrorizing thought entered her head. It wasn't the lie that had hurt him. It wasn't that she didn't tell him the same. He must think she didn't return his feelings. That she rejected him and left him in limbo.

That explained the cold shoulder, the short exchanges. It explained his pulling away. He thought she couldn't love him and for some reason that hurt her.

She had to fix it. Though her mind felt hampered, she knew that she had to fix it, and had to do it as soon as possible. But how? How could she explain to him something she couldn't even explain to herself?

Everything that she came up with sounded insulting to him. That she wasn't ready sounded like she didn't love him the same way. That she wasn't sure what to do was just as bad. An excuse wouldn't work, because she had none.

She did it out of fear, but that wasn't an excuse either.

Damn him.

Her life had been so simple before he showed up. Her heart was hidden behind a wall and that was where it could stay. She could get her fix for relationships and other primal needs easily and without the painful aftermath.

She could glide through love and caring and come out unscathed.

Yet, here she, was drowning some of her sorrows in a drink and feeling like a complete bitch. He knocked a hole into her wall, weakened it to his advances and existence. How could she fight something that deep inside she wanted more than anything?

Why had she crushed it in a moment of lapse thinking?

She turned and dumped the rest of her drink into the sink. She walked into the living room and flipped off the TV. She pulled her coat from its hanger and picked up her keys from the bowl, and a couple of bills from the envelope holder beside the bowl. She'd take a cab. She'd go see him.

She'd try to fix what she could, and bandage what she couldn't. She couldn't-wouldn't lose him over this.

* * *

><p>As always, a rhino on top of an elephant sized thanks to ChrisS for beta reading.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** And here we are in the next chapter. Thanks to all of you that reviewed and setup alerts. Things aren't better yet, but Kate gets some support here, and next chapter should make most of you happy... I hope. :P

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

Kate flexed her fingers as she stood outside his door. It was late. He probably went to bed hours ago. She should just wait until tomorrow when her head wasn't hazy and her emotions weren't so laced with alcohol. Yes, tomorrow would be best.

She reached up to the door. Knocked once. Twice. Waited.

Her internal clocked ticked away seconds in what felt like years. She shifted her weight from one side to there other. She crossed and uncrossed her arms and then gave a heavy sigh when no sound came from the other side of the door. He already went to bed. The relief that filled her was a bit of a surprise.

It was stupid to come out here. What did she plan on doing? Confessing her undying love to him? She kicked at the rug as she turned to leave. She made it about three steps when the sound of locks being undone reached her. She paused, and didn't want to turn around when the door opened. She squinted and felt like she'd been caught and hunched her shoulders when she heard her name.

"Beckett?" His voice didn't sound tired, but she'd have preferred that over the annoyance that lingered at the edges of her name. "You get a new case already?"

"Uh no," she said and turned around, shoved her hands into the pockets of her grey coat. She forced herself to look up at him and found some comfort in the dullness of his eyes. At least she wasn't the only one who had a drink tonight. He hadn't changed his clothes either. "Not exactly."

He came out into the hall and closed the door, the click made her breath hitch. He didn't invite her in. Was she no longer welcomed? "Then why are you here," he looked down at his watch, "at one in the morning?"

"I know, I just…" Just what? What did she have to say to him? I'm sorry? That would certainly make it all better. She shook her head at the thought. "You okay?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Maybe, but I asked first."

He walked to her and gave a tiny shift of his shoulders. "Never better. You?"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine. Good, even."

"Good."

He looked away from her, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you asking, Beckett?"

"You left so quickly tonight and you… seemed bothered by something." She was going to say that she knew what it was, but something wouldn't let her. She wanted to hear him say it, to tell her what was wrong before assuming and getting herself into even more hot water. "I just want to make sure we're okay."

He came up to her, bent down and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. He didn't. "Have you been drinking?"

"A little," she said and felt even more foolish. "Needed to take the edge off. You?"

"Same."

"So we're okay?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" The snide tone fell into place under the words and she felt her skin crawl. "I can't think of any reason why we wouldn't be okay."

"None?"

"None."

She took a deep breath and glanced to the door and then back to him. She didn't want to have an argument out in the hall. "Can I talk to you inside?"

"I'd rather not. Alexis is sleeping. What is it?"

"I'm…" She closed her eyes, drew her lips thin. This was stupid. What the hell did she think she was doing? Why the hell would he want her? She was broken, fragile, and idiotic when it came to feelings. How was it fair for her to ask him to take on all that? "Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure." He turned and she watched him go to his door and touch the handle.

"I'm sorry." The words escaped before she could stamp them down.

He looked slowly back to her and his face was drawn up in surprise, like he'd just been slapped. He released the door handle and walked to her. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she said and stared at the carpet because she didn't want to see the hatred in his eyes. Her fingers began to pick at the fabric inside her pockets.

"For what, Beckett?" His voice still sounded distant and pained, but there was also something else under it. She wished they could just go back to normal. Why couldn't things just be like they were before?

"Tell me first why you've been so cold to me."

"I haven't been cold to you."

She looked up, met his eyes with her own anger and his faltered and turned toward the wall. "You've been cold since this morning. Why?"

"What are you sorry about?"

"Did I say something? Do something?"

"So you don't know what you're sorry about?" He started to turn away and she stepped forward, took hold of his sleeve and pulled him to face her. "Look, Beckett, I'm tired. It's been a long day and I don't want to play any games with you right now."

"Games? Isn't that what you're doing? Something happened and you're taking it out on me, so why the hell don't you just tell me what your problem is?" She took another step forward, confronting him. He didn't get to leave until they figured this out and when he just stared at her she felt her anger begin to ebb. "Come on, I want to know."

"Well, that sucks because we don't always get what we want, do we? I'm going to bed."

"Don't walk away from me, Castle. Don't."

"Watch me." He went to his door, paused for moment and then turned back, his expression unreadable. "I might be late tomorrow… I have plans."

"I didn't do it to hurt you." She bit down on her tongue and cursed at the way his body tensed. "You heard me in interrogation, didn't you? You were behind the glass."

"And if I was? What could I have heard that you need to apologize for?" She could place his look now. He closed her off. She was now on the other side of one of his walls. It wasn't a good feeling.

"You're going to do this? You're going to play dumb?"

"I do stupid things sometimes, as you well know." His arms crossed. He started to lean away from her. This was not going how she had hoped. "What could you say in interrogation that would hurt me, Beckett? Who says I'm even hurting? I'm fine."

"No you're not, I can see it."

"Then tell me why, oh Great Detective."

She grimaced, though she tried not to and looked away. It stung, she could admit that, but he was upset and he had a right to be. "I remember."

"Remember what?"

"Everything. I remember what you said."

"Do you? For how long?" He was closing off more; his voice had taken on a monotone. She wanted to reach for him, but her arms wouldn't go along with the idea.

"Since I woke up in the hospital."

"Ah, well that is a long time to keep a secret. Even longer to keep a lie."

"What lie?"

"I asked if you remembered anything, twice in fact. You told me no both times." He shrugged and turned to stare at his door. "Well, what's done is done. I appreciate you telling me to my face."

"That's it?" She asked and he didn't answer. "Castle, I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Which is why you didn't tell me. Very valiant of you to save us both the embarrassment." He turned to stone in front of her. She watched it happen, all his emotions were drawn in; his gaze went glassy. He was waiting for a hit, for one last punch to the gut.

"Embarrassment? Rick, what are you talking about? I wasn't—"

"I get it, Beckett. I do. It's fine. It's late and I'm tired. I'll see you later." His door opened and closed with a snap and he disappeared behind it. She stared at the silver handle as her brain seemed to try and reset itself. What the hell just happened?

She walked to his door, this time anger taking over where hurt had once been. This wasn't how they were going to leave things. No way.

She knocked on the door. No answer. She tried the doorknob and to her surprise found it unlocked. Now what? He'd be angry if she just went in but… screw it. She wasn't running this time and neither was he. He wanted to have a knock-down-drag-out fight then fine, she was game. He'd hear what she had to say.

She opened the door; found the loft washed in darkness with only little islands of light on the sides of the room. "Castle?" she whispered, but there came no reply. She hoped he was in his office and started that way, feeling a bit like some kind of prowler. "Castle, we still need to talk."

"He went to bed, dear." She froze, her blood ice in her veins. She found the form of Martha sitting on the couch, bent forward and staring at something on the coffee table. "He hasn't had a very good day."

"I didn't mean to barge in, I just—"

"We do what we mean to. Why are you here?"

"I really need to talk to Castle." Kate said and stiffened when Martha stood. She was little more than a ghostly silhouette and Kate couldn't help the tiny bubble of fear that started to build in her gut.

"Little late for that now, isn't it?"

"It's not what you think."

"Darling, when is it ever? I don't think he's in much of a mood to talk to you right now. But me? I'd love to hear it. Sit." Martha gestured to the couch and then reached over and turned the lamp on beside it. Kate preferred the dark compare to the look she was getting at the moment. "Sit."

Kate nodded and made her way over to the couch. She had interrogated murderers and drug lords; she had stared death in the face, and saw bullets in their barrel with her name in it. Never before had she felt such a sense of dread and the need to be anywhere else but there. She sat down, folded her hands together and dropped them between her knees.

"I really think I should discuss this with Castle."

"Kate, I don't think you realize the damage you've done. I've seen my son in some slumps, he still has the Roger's luck in love, but this is the worst he's ever been."

"I did… I didn't know what to do. I had so much going on then. I was shot, Martha. I'm still recovering. I couldn't deal with it then, and it… was just easier to let it go unmentioned."

"You could have told him that you didn't love him. Months now he's been in a holding pattern for you because he thought there was still a chance. If you knew you didn't care about him in that way, why the hell would you keep him in limbo?" Martha sighed, turned to look toward the bookcases that hid his office. "He fell hard for you. He'd do anything for you, and probably will continue to do so. I couldn't talk him into dating other girls, though I tried. It was always about you. He's put his life on the line over and over for you. Then you did this to him…"

"I didn't ask him to risk his life. I never asked him for anything. I can't stop him from doing what he wants!"

Martha gave a soft chuckle that made Kate finally look at her. "Of course you didn't, and you never will have to ask. He's broken, Kate." She closed her eyes for a moment and licked her lips. "You both are."

"I never said I didn't love him." Her voice barely came out in a whisper but she still felt Martha shift on the couch.

"You never said you did, either. Do you?"

She took a moment to try to find words, ones that wouldn't sound faceless and overused. She sighed and rubbed her hands along her thighs while taking a deep breath when she failed and said,"I think I do. No, I know I do… I just didn't want to get into it before I was ready."

"What makes you think you aren't ready now?" The tone had changed drastically and Martha reached over and took one of Kate's hands. Kate was glad the tension had eased; she couldn't have taken much more. "What has to happen to have you be ready for something more?"

"I have a lot of things I'm trying to work through, and I haven't quite yet. I'm not exactly dating material right not, at least not for him."

"Do you think that Richard will run away because of some baggage? He's dealing with it now, dear." She squeezed Kate's hand and Kate returned it. "I'm not here to tell you what to do, in fact I was quite willing to take a shot at you over this. But if you love my son, Kate, you have to tell him. You have to hammer it into that thick head of his because right now all he sees is that he was wrong. He wasn't wrong though, right? You want something with him."

"I do." Kate nodded heavily and took a deep breath and then released it. "I'm worried that if we screw this up, we're done. I'm not happy with how things are, but I could live with just being partners with him. He means a lot to me, Martha. So much."

Martha placed a hand to Kate's cheek, made her turn to her and offered a warm smile. "Neither of you have screwed it up yet, though not for lack of trying. Even when he thought you didn't love him, he still stayed. He's out of his mind, in my opinion, but that's what love does. It can't be rational or thought out, Kate. It has to be lived and felt. Hiding from it will only cause you both misery."

"So what do I do?"

"That's something you're going to need to figure out on your own. I can't help you with that, but I know you'll come up with something that will make him understand." Martha drew Kate into a tight hug, one that felt welcoming and soothing at the same time. It was something Kate hadn't even realized she needed.

"Right, I guess it would be best to try to explain again. No more secrets between us." Kate said with a small smile, but Martha didn't return it right away, almost as if her mind was somewhere else for a half second.

"Probably the best move you could make. I wouldn't do it tonight, however. Let him get some sleep and maybe he won't be so childish and grouchy tomorrow."

Kate nodded and stood. "You won't tell him that I was here, will you?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I'm not sure." Kate said as she gently rubbed at her throat. "Maybe it would be better to wait."

"Then I'll let you tell him when you talk to him next. You can decide then if he needs to know." Martha steered Kate toward the door and opened it for her. "Remember what I said, he's hard headed when he's sure about something, it could be a bit of a fight."

Kate grinned. "I can handle Castle, I think."

"I'll alert the National Guard just in case the battle grows too big."

The laugh came out on its own, and made her feel lighter. "Might be a good idea. Good night, and thanks."

"You're welcome, and it's morning, dear. Take care." The door clicked shut and Kate stared at the wall as she tried to organize everything that just happened. She started down the hall, the beginnings of an idea forming. She might just have a way to make him listen and maybe get out some frustration at the same time.

* * *

><p>As always, an Empire State building thanks to ChrisS for beta reading.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** And so here we end this little story. Like I said, it would be short and sweet, and while this would never happen on the show, I had a bit of fun writing this. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as well. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

She had a plan. That was the only thing keeping her from canceling her idea and just letting everything simmer down. But that could be awhile and the risk of losing him was too great. She would stick to the plan. Just a sting op, nothing more. Castle was the target, she was the bait and, dammit, they were going to figure this out.

She closed her locker and sat down on a bench, her black tank-top tight across her back as she bent down and slipped off her shoes. Would he even show? She had given Ryan and Esposito specific directions on what to do when Castle came in but then, they could screw it up. They could tell him she was up to something, but that wouldn't stop him from showing, in fact it would probably put a spring in his step.

This could get ugly. He still might not want to talk to her, and if that was the case, she had something else in mind other than talking. This would be as much for her as him, because—Christ, she had some things she needed to get out too. Hopefully in the end neither of them would have broken bones, but she didn't discard the possibility.

Standing she looked around the locker room and found it empty, a small piece of grace, but she didn't expect it to last long. Second shift started in less than an hour, which should give her enough time. If not… well, they'd just have to deal with the show.

She finished taping up her hands and headed out into the training room. She stopped on one of the blue mats and turned her neck from side to side, shook out her limbs. He'd show. He had too.

Nerves were buzzing in every part of her and her stomach had started a nervous jitter that she tried to quell but failed. She needed to do something with the energy, so she went to the large hanging bag in the corner of the room and began to beat the thing into submission.

A hard, round-house kick left the muscles in her calf singing and her skin tingling. The bag's chain squeaked and the tapped the wall before it fell into a gentle sway. She took a step back, settled her stance and took a breath.

"Nice kick." She put her arms up for a moment as if to attack and then dropped them when Castle stepped into the ring of light that played over the mats. "Anyone I know?"

"Someone you know quiet well." She said and wiped a strand of hair back behind her ear. "You need something?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Ryan said you were up here and wanted to talk to me about something."

"I wasn't thinking of talking much." She said as she went to the bench and picked up a bottle, took a gulp of water into her mouth and while swallowing she picked up a pile of clothes. "But we may solve more this way." She tossed the pile at him and they hit him square in the chest. "Go change in there and then come out."

"What's going on, Beckett?"

"Just for once do as I ask, all right? Go change."

He seemed to want to say something more but an old fashioned glare had him turning and trudging toward the locker room. The door closed with a small bang and she had to sit down. This felt like the right way to get through this, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this would end badly. Hadn't it already? How much worse could this make it? They were already on the outs, at least this way they could get some hits in.

When he came back out she looked up and felt a pleasant twinge in her abdomen. He wore a dark blue t-shirt that was tucked into a pair of lose, dark red running pants. The sleeves were missing and she couldn't remember the last time she had seen his arms bare, but she sort of wished he'd do it more often. He looked down at himself, adjusted the shirt and then cocked his head to the side. "And I'm wearing my work-out clothes because…?"

She had talked Martha into getting them for her this morning. Apparently Castle really did have plans, a business meeting at the Old Haunt. She still wondered what kind of business, but that was a question for another time. "Obviously because we're going to be working out."

"I'm going to what? Spot you while you're on the weight-bench?"

She smiled slightly and stood, walked toward him with her hands on her hips. "I have something else in mind, Castle."

"What's that?" She couldn't help but grin at the surprise that filled up his face. She could almost see his mind going into overdrive, and she was glad she wasn't privy to what may be going inside it.

"We're going to spar."

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"I'm not fighting you, Beckett." He said and walked along the mat, careful to stay off it.

"It's sparring, not fighting. What's wrong, Castle? Afraid you'd get your ass handed to you?"

"Want me to be honest? A little bit, yeah."

"Come on, I'll take it easy on you."

"Why?"

"Because I could probably take you—"

"No, I mean: why do you want to spar? What is that going to do?"

Kate shrugged. "Who knows? Get in here, you wuss."

He seemed torn for a moment but his brows came down in a look of determination and he stepped up on the mat. "Rules?"

"Full contact," she said. "Though, I'll keep clear of the cheap shot. No hitting of the head, either. Don't want to mess up the ruggedly handsome thing you have going on."

"I'd appreciate that." He said and she grinned. It widened when he allowed a small smile. He took up a boxing stance a few feet from her and shifted his shoulders.

"Ready?"

Castle reached out with a gloved hand behind him and made a knocking motion, the smile wide for only a moment. "Ding. Ding."

They began to circle, their feet moving in concert to keep each other in view. Kate struck first with a quick instep and an elbow jab to his side. He blocked with a forearm, the motion not super fast, but surprising for him and she rolled with it, took a step back. "So, you're still mad?"

"Possibly." He said and blocked a kick from her with his shin. He missed the second one which sent him staggering back a few feet. He laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing," he moved forward again, this time keeping his hands a little more loose and down. "Is that the best you got, Detective?"

"Please." She jabbed at him again and he deflected her right hit and landed a punch of his own against her right side. She grunted and turned with it. It didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have and she realized he was pulling his punches. It annoyed her. They traded a number of blows, each one from him at probably half his strength. "Come on, Castle, I'm not fragile here."

"What are you talking about?" She stepped to his side when he dropped his hands for a moment and took hold of his arm, flipped him onto his back. The _THWAP! _his body made hitting the mat echoed through the room. She moved to stand over him as he twisted in pain, his eyes closed tightly.

"You know what I'm talking about. Don't hold back."

"Fine," he said his eyes still closed. His quick movement surprised her and only by instinct was she able to soften her fall with a hand. It didn't matter because he was on her in an instant, pinning her arm behind her back, her shoulder screaming pain along her nerves. "Better?"

"Much." She shifted her hips, tried to find a way to get a leg up and against him. "You're not too bad at this."

"Research." He said, his tone still cold and she frowned at it.

"You're making an awfully big assumption, you know that, Castle?"

"About what?"

"About a lot of things." She got her legs bent and set her feet. "You overheard something but didn't get any details. That's not being a very good writer."

"I think we're done here." He went to stand and she helped him along as she shifted her hip into his thigh and pushed him over. It was a quick roll on the mat that had her ending up on top, straddling his waist with her feet hooked around his legs.

"We're not done until we get this figured out." She said and bent down so that their noses were inches away. Sweat had begun to glisten along his forehead and neck. She felt a drop of her own sweat run down her nose and collect at the tip. "We're going to talk about this."

"I thought we were going to spar?"

"We did, I won. Why do you think I didn't tell you I heard what you said?" He turned from her, flinched when a drop of her sweat fell onto his cheek. "Do you think I don't feel the same way?"

This time his eyes shot to her, fierce and dangerous. "Don't do this, Beckett."

"Do what? You're pulling away on an assumption, why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you ask why?"

"Would you have told me? When the hell has confronting you about anything worked out? You'd have deflected, and you know it." He moved his arms, but she held tight, shifted her weight so that she practically laid across him so she had more leverage.

"And if I had? At least then it would all be out in the open. Why haven't you told me that you still have feelings for me? Why keep it under wraps since last spring?"

She had never seen him so angry. His face was drawn up in a grimace that would have given a demon a run for its money in anger. "Why do you think?"

She sat up, placed her hands to his chest and waited. He propped himself up on his elbows, but didn't try to dislodge her from on top of him. He licked his lips and took a deep breath before he locked his eyes with hers and she wished she could look away from the broke shards she saw in them.

"You told me on that swing set-you know, the first time you'd seen me in three months-that you couldn't have a relationship. You said that until you put you mother's murder to rest that you couldn't have what you wanted. I thought I understood what you were say, but it seems not."

"You have a memory like a goddam elephant, you know that?" She said with a slight smile and he just shrugged. "Did you think I meant you?"

"I don't know what I thought." He said and she winced. That came out completely wrong.

"I did mean you," she said and reached out, touched his face to bring his gaze back to her. "I was talking about us."

"Then why did you lie?"

"I don't know, Rick, maybe because I had been shot and needed to deal with that? Maybe because I wasn't ready? Bringing up that I remembered would put that all out on the table, and I wasn't ready for that. I just… wasn't."

"I was willing to wait." He said slowly. She had really hurt him and to know that tore at her heart in a whole new way.

"I know and that's why I couldn't tell you. It isn't fair to ask you to wait for me, Rick."

He looked back to her and sat up completely. She went to get off him, but his hands took hold of her waist and held her there. "You wouldn't need to ask. I was waiting already. I've been waiting for a long time now, Kate. A long time, but you're worth it."

"Am I? What makes me worth it?"

"Because, for some reason, I love you." The words seemed to come out on their own and she could see the slight surprise crawl on his face for only an instant. She smiled, so hard that her cheeks began to hurt after a moment. She reached out and took his face into her hands and pulled him into a quick kiss that sent her insides tumbling over themselves.

She pulled away from him, her eyes hooded and lips tingling and wanted so much to just kiss him again. It took a concerted effort to not do it again and she turned away and looked out into the gym to gather herself some. When she looked back she saw the love he'd mentioned in his eyes and couldn't help but fall in to their pools of blue. "I love you, too."

"Is that so?" He asked, the grin so wide that she feared it might split his face. "Since when?"

"Since for a long time. I just wasn't ready… I'm still not, I don't think."

"I can wait."

"You shouldn't have to, but I'm glad to hear you will. I'm sorry, Rick."

"Nothing to be sorry about."

"I'm working on it all the best I can." She said and placed her arms on his shoulders and began to run her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I want this, though. I want us."

"You'll have us. You just need to tell me when."

"Even if it takes me another month? Another year?"

"I'll be here."

"You sure?"

"Positive." He moved forward and caught her lips, the kiss quick and sloppy, but oh so good. She could live a happy life with just getting a kiss from him once in awhile. She still wanted more than that.

"I guess I have to double my effort." She said when he broke off. "Because I don't think I can hold out much longer."

"Detective, are you saying you're weakened to my charm?"

"In your dreams, Castle."

"I don't think you want to know what happens in my dreams." She hit him square in the shoulder, but couldn't bite back the laugh.

"Uh, excuse me? Are you two done? Some of us would like to use the gym before out shift starts." The voice came from a corner of the room and Kate turned to see two men standing there in sweats and tank-tops, both with shit-eating grins. Well, at least everyone will know in an hour that she and Castle were back on track. She stood from him and then held out her hand, which he took.

"Sorry, was working some things out," Kate said. The men just nodded as she and Castle went toward the locker rooms. She stopped, turned on a heel and faced them both. "You tell anyone about this, and I will personally make your lives hell."

Their grins grew. She turned away, knowing that it wouldn't matter. They wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut, but at least she tried. She and Castle stopped in the hall that had two doors in it, one for each locker room, and faced each other.

"Are we okay?" She asked as her fingers began to tap against her leg. "Because if we're not, I want to know."

"We're okay, Kate. Better even." The smile made her heart flutter and she laughed.

"Good. Well, we should get changed. It's getting late." She turned to go through the door, but he called after her.

"Kate? I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not coming to you and shutting you out." He laughed and rubbed at the back of his head, his posture lax and tired. "I thought I could forget about how much I care about you. I thought I could bury my feelings. I couldn't. I tried so damn hard because it hurt too much, but I couldn't. I should have talked to you."

"We'll figure it out, Rick. We always do."

"Yeah. Always." He said and walked to her. "I can't put to words how much I love you."

"Don't get sappy on me." She said and he laughed and kissed her, his hands tight on her arms. She pushed him gently away, sadness filling her.

"I can't, not yet."

"Right, I know. I can wait. Just… throw me a hint once in awhile to let me know I'm still in the running."

"Running? You've already won, it's just going to take a bit more before you get it."

"Fair enough. Think I could get a ride home?"

"Sure." She said and went into the locker room and then placed her back against the door and let a breath escape. He loved her. She loved him. They loved each other. What more could she ask for? There was still fear, still worry, but she felt that she could overcome them soon enough. She had an honest to God reason to fix as much as she could. He'd wait, but she would make sure it wouldn't be long.

* * *

><p>A giant thanks to ChrisS for beta reading this for me!<p> 


End file.
